


Celebration

by Jodie



Category: due South
Genre: Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-01
Updated: 2015-12-01
Packaged: 2018-05-04 09:40:28
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,063
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5329433
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jodie/pseuds/Jodie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>These guys are so silly!</p>
            </blockquote>





	Celebration

**Author's Note:**

  * For [mific](https://archiveofourown.org/users/mific/gifts).



Benton Fraser could hear “London Calling” playing inside as he approached his door. Entering the apartment he shared with Ray Kowalski, he called out, “I bought some potato chips as you requested. Diefenbaker wanted me to buy the cheddar flavor as well, but he really shouldn’t eat so much junk food. What’s all this, Ray?”

Ray Kowalski didn’t miss a beat as he stepped to the music. “I’ve got weenies and buns and all the toppings: chopped onions, sauerkraut, pickles, pepper rings, hot sauce, mustard…”

“So I see, but why?”

Ray stopped and turned to Benton. “It’s our two-year anniversary of coming back from our adventure, Fraser. That’s worth a celebration, right? Vecchio’s on his way, table’s set for three, floor’s set for one, all’s right with the world!”

“I wasn’t aware that you kept track of such things. We didn’t celebrate last year.”

“Well, I didn’t celebrate with you last year. Vecchio and I had a little celebration, privately.”

Fraser peered at his friend. “Are you blushing, Ray?”

Ray had turned to lower the music, and was trying to think of something clever to say while his back was turned. At that moment, Diefenbaker jumped to his feet and trotted to the apartment door, and stood with his tail wagging until it opened. He woofed a greeting to the tall man smiling down at him. The smile was replaced by an eye roll, as the man exclaimed, “Would you mind? These bags aren’t getting any lighter here!” Dief then stepped aside, and walked beside him toward the dining table.

“Whoa, look at all the goodies! Here you go, I’ve got beer and root beer and near beer and dark ale and ginger ale…something for all tastes. I’ve also got fudge swirl ice cream and chocolate sauce for dessert.”

Fraser took the ice cream to the freezer. “So you knew that we’d be celebrating tonight, then.”

“Yeah. Here, which kind of drink do you want?”

“I’ll have a root beer, thank you kindly.”

“Woof.”

“No ginger ale for you. It gives you hiccups. You have fresh water in your dish.”

“Woof.”

“This ice cream has chocolate, and you know you can’t have that. You don’t want to end up at the vet tonight, do you?”

“Hand me a beer, would you, Frase?” Kowalski had given up trying to find something witty to say to Fraser, and turned his attention to Vecchio instead. He said, “OK, some ground rules for this evening, Vecchio: no nasty puns about weenies in buns, or weenies in general, sausage fests, or related sausage quips, you hear me? Not everyone will be amused.” He smirked and rolled his eyes, gesturing toward Fraser.

“Not amusing people is my greatest gift, Kowalski. I have a reputation to uphold,” remarked Vecchio dryly.

“You’re not making sense, Ray. I frequently find you amusing. Admittedly, usually not when you’re making jokes… but why would weenies in buns be nasty? I think they look delicious.”

Kowalski almost choked on his beer, and he and Vecchio both turned crimson, but Fraser was chuckling to himself. Dief ignored all of them, and stood expectantly by his food bowl.

“Sit down, guys, dig in. Yeah, I see you standing there. You get two, and two only, so don’t come begging for more,” said Kowalski, dropping two weenies into Dief’s bowl.

“Woof.”

“And don’t ask for toppings, Diefenbaker. You know spicy foods don’t agree with you,” added Fraser.

“Woof.”

“All right, you may have three potato chips and a dab of pickle, but don’t expect sympathy from me when your tummy bothers you tonight.” Fraser turned to his friends, “You see how he turns away when he doesn’t like what I’m saying. He’s becoming impossible.”

“He’s been impossible since I first met him, and probably long before that. Sort of like Kowalski here. You’ve just got to take them as you find them.” Vecchio took a deep swallow of root beer and smiled across the table.

“You didn’t take me, I gave myself. Lucky you,” replied Kowalski. Vecchio smiled even more broadly.

Conversation was silenced as men and wolf concentrated on their food. Vecchio raised his eyebrows as Kowalski piled toppings on his weenie, spooning a heap of onions on top as a final touch, but Kowalski was undeterred. “Help yourself,” he said, passing the onion bowl to Vecchio, “If we all stink, none of us will be offended.”

“How heartwarming. That could be the motto of our friendship.”

Kowalski waved his hand in a circular motion, dripping chopped onion all over the table. “Whatever. The four of us are just good together. If we’re all freaks, we don’t have any superiority issues. I mean, when I met you I thought you thought you were superior and that’s why I didn’t like you, but now I know you’re a mess, so we’re cool, right?”

“A mess? This is cashmere.”

“You being a style pig is what I mean. You look smooth on the outside, but you’re like the rest of us on the inside.”

Fraser swallowed his mouthful of food and asked, “You think I’m a mess, Ray?”

“Not a mess, exactly, just a freak.”

“I think I understand,” Fraser said. “You mean we like each other all the more for our peccadilloes.”

"That’s not what I mean. I mean that if you’re a freak, that’s who you really are, but if you’re too good to be true, that’s not who you really are.”

“Articulate as always, Stanley.”

“What are pickle pillows? And don’t call me Stanley.”

"He didn’t say pickle pillows, Stanley, he said peccadilloes.”

Before the squabble could turn heated, Fraser said, "I think we all appreciate each other, including our individual quirks."

Vecchio ducked his head, and took a sip of his drink. He took a deep breath and said “Um, yeah.  Seriously guys… Canadian Thanksgiving is in October, and American Thanksgiving is in November, but my Thanksgiving is now, because I’ve never had it so good as with you guys.”

“Woof.”

“That includes you…jeez, don’t get all huffy.”

“Woof.”

“Well, ok, then. Happy Anniversary to the best pack in Chicago.”

Kowalski lightly patted the top of Vecchio’s bald head, and said, “You got that right.”

Vecchio swatted at the hand, but he looked pleased at the affirmation.

Fraser smiled, stood, and lifted his glass. “We have much to celebrate. To you, my friends.”

**Author's Note:**

> thanks so much to my beta reader, BoxofDelights


End file.
